


Sentiment

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair hates packing, and Jim hates watching him go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sentiment

## Sentiment

#### by Rhysenn

Author's website: <http://rhysenn.morethanart.org>  
Blair and Jim are not mine - just each other's.  
First fic posted in this fandom (and I've only watched about a dozen eps in Seasons 1 and 2 so far.)   
  
Inspired by "The Debt", in which Blair moves in with Jim. As always, feedback will be much appreciated.   


* * *

He hated packing. 

Blair stuffed the remainder of his clothes into the backpack, and managed to drag the zipper closed all around before he realized there were still three textbooks sitting on the edge of his bed. He swore, ripped the backpack open again and emptied its contents on the floor. And started over. 

He hated packing, hated the feeling of leaving something behind - of _knowing_ that he had, but being unable to figure out what it was until he finally missed its presence. Until it was too late. 

It was strange how much easier it had been to pack his stuff the last time he moved: even though he had a monkey in tow and a deconstructed ice lab had ripped a huge hole in his living room wall. Perhaps all the difference had been the reluctant friend that had waited by his side. 

One week had turned into what seemed like a lifetime, and this loft became more than just a roof over his head. 

Now two large boxes sat near the door to his room, filled with everything that had belonged on the shelves and drawers and hangers. Books, check. Jewelry, all in a silver box in the front pocket of his backpack. His favorite jacket - he glanced up, and found it dangling just in front of his face. 

Pushing a stray tendril of hair out of his eyes, he looked up at Jim. 

"Thanks, man." He took the jacket from Jim and rolled it up; then decided that he would wear it on his back instead. Or maybe not. Finally he dropped it lamely on his bed, and sighed as he turned back to zipping up his backpack. 

From the corner of his eye he saw Jim watching him. The older man had not spoken a word since Blair stepped into the loft - and Blair _knew_ that Jim knew perfectly well how _he_ couldn't stand silences. 

"Come on, man," he said, a quiet imploration in his voice. "Please don't do this." 

Jim didn't bat an eyelid. "Do what?" 

" _This_ , Jim!" Blair threw his hands up in frustration; and he knew it wasn't because of the stuck zipper. "Does it always have to be like this with you? Must everything always end up in a bad place - like death, or divorce, or... no-parking zones?" 

Jim cocked his head at Blair. "So is that what this is?" 

"I was just being metaphorical -" 

"An end, I mean." 

"No," Blair said immediately, and then skidded to a halt. "I mean - well - I don't know, okay? You're the one who wanted me to move out in the first place!" 

"I didn't hear you protesting too much." 

"That's because..." Blair raked his hand through his hair, feeling as distraught as he sounded - "Well, I'm tired of making you do things you don't want to do, you know?" 

"I still did them, didn't I." Jim's words were not a question, but a quiet observation that both of them knew was true. 

Jim stepped forward and leaned down next to him. With a movement that managed to be both gentle and brisk, he held Blair's hands aside and, in a deft maneuver, eased the stuck zipper back on track again. 

"Don't forget your jacket," he said, slinging Blair's backpack easily over his shoulder and walking out of the room. 

For one of the rare times in his life, Blair found no reply as he snatched the jacket from the bed and scampered after Jim, who was already at the front door. 

"You can drop by later this week to pick up the rest of your stuff," Jim said; his expression remained impassive as he handed Blair the backpack, and those eyes that always missed nothing now seemed to completely ignore the way Blair was looking at him. "Just give a call first." 

"Jim," Blair began. 

But the other man just shook his head sharply, and the rest of Blair's sentence - god, what _had_ he even wanted to say? - fell away into silence as Jim raised his hand and let it brush lightly over Blair's cheek. It was a movement so quick that Blair would have missed it if he blinked, if not for the affectionate touch that made his skin flush with a familiar warmth. 

"Take care of yourself, Chief." 

Blair nodded, tightly. "Okay." 

Jim opened the door, and moved aside for Blair to step out - but as soon as he did, Blair immediately heard the click of the door closing, very softly, behind him. 

No looking back, no goodbyes. 

Blair's brow furrowed, and he shut his eyes as he slumped back on the hard wood - composure had always been something that Jim was better at. So was listening, but even Blair could tell that Jim was still standing there, behind the closed door. Waiting. 

Neither of them moved for a long time - but it was Blair who finally broke the separated stillness. He pushed himself away from the door, and started down the dim corridor; because in his mind, Blair knew that his Sentinel would never walk away from him until he did. 

And a part of him knew, not even if he did. 

* * *

End Sentiment by Rhysenn: rhysenn@ratherevil.org  
Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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